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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880265">Picking Flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWeeb/pseuds/WritingWeeb'>WritingWeeb</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Originally For School [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>2p Hetlia, Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:55:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23880265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWeeb/pseuds/WritingWeeb</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Viktor(2p! Russia) picks flowers for the monster in his closet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>America/Russia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Originally For School [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Picking Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please be aware this contains slight references to abuse. I am not trying to be homophobic, I'm trying to put it from Viktor's perspective who was raised in a homophobic environment and the story is a third-person view of his outlook on life and coming out.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The strong smell of borscht wafted from the kitchen as Viktor sat at the dinner table, his two sisters chattering away happily and his father looking stone-faced as always. A lovely voice danced through the air, coming in along with his mother with a large serving bowl in her hands, steam lazily rising into the air. “Food is ready!” She hummed placing the bowl in the middle of the table and allowing everyone to serve themselves a portion of its contents.</p>
<p>Viktor emptily gazed at the contents of his bowl, his heart thudded in his ears as his surroundings seemed like a bit too much. The room seemed to still and fall into silence despite his father saying a prayer. Everything felt muted… no, he could still hear but simply couldn't listen. Prayer was over before he knew it. Chatter around the table became white noise. He ate his soup with a tunnel vision that faded everything around him in a blurry mesh. The taste, once wonderful and vibrant, became nothing more than the taste of bland mashed potatoes. Feeling as if he couldn’t see, hear, or taste anything he floated, eating his food with an automatic movement of his mouth and arm mind wandering until it was snapped back like a rubber band that had been pulled taught by a simple question.</p>
<p>“Did you see that parade of monsters on television?”</p>
<p>Viktor felt as if a freight train had hit him. His sensations all came back to him at once as he stared up at his father who had an angry grimace on his face. Viktor stayed silent for mere moments only to speak up, “Yeah… it was unnatural and weird.” The simple words of hate tasted foul on his tongue, “It’s wrong.” He finally said the words all too familiar as he spoke them. His older sister’s chatter fell silent and his younger sister picked at her food. “<strong>Sinners</strong>, all of them.” The head of the table grumbled on, the atmosphere tensing with every vile word. </p>
<p>Viktor felt as if he were about to suffocate or freeze with the cold thick air that hugged him all too tightly. He wasn’t quite sure which one would come first exactly. Thankfully, his mother’s ever so bright and happy spirit broke through, “Dearest… please do not talk about such things at the dinner table. Especially in front of the children.” She took in a breath, gaze meeting her husband’s own glare, “Now, let us eat before the food freezes.” </p>
<p>Chatter seeped its way back into the awkward silence of the dinner table and he cold thawed as Viktor’s spoon stirred the soup within his bowl. The soup tasted wonderful as the bland taste of mashed potatoes left his taste buds alone. His heart’s rapid tap dancing became a slow waltz and his adrenaline stopped pumping with a slow halt. He felt almost normal. This felt almost normal.</p>
<p><br/>“I still can’t believe that country allowed <strong>that</strong> to happen.” His father growled out almost engulfing the room once more.</p>
<p>The waltz sped up but before it could hurtle into a speedy tap dance dinner was merely an addition to the fragmented memories that Viktor could recollect. He was sitting in front of the television with his family, gaze flickering between those rainbow flags that seemed to cover the screen and at his father who didn’t look all too pleased. Viktor decided that both made his heart sprint.</p>
<p>School was an utter nightmare as long as Viktor was concerned. Today was the third day of SEX ED and he was quite positive that he’d eventually be driven mad with the lessons. He saw no reason as to why they had to continue. What more was there to go over? They had already learned about STDs brought by the Devil on a platter of lust, the evil that was contraception, and… and the gross bits and pieces all in between. Viktor truly couldn’t recognize what else had to be learned. That was until he sat down in class and was faced with the bold letters, </p>
<p>‘THE SIN OF HOMOSEXUALITY’</p>
<p>Now Viktor really had a reason to want for a hole to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. He watched as his classmates took their seats around him and fell into two categories of looks on their faces, disgust or morbid fascination. There was no in-between as far as he could tell. Viktor felt some of the fear being replaced by his own repulsion towards the given subject matter. </p>
<p>The lesson seemed to drag on for hours upon hours. Each hate-filled word fed the children who were like hungry guppies, Viktor among them. They ate all of the hate up, their bodies incubators to allow it to manifest. </p>
<p>
  <em>God was life and homosexuality went against life. </em>
</p>
<p>It had been days since the lesson but the words buzzed around his head like busy bumblebees and Viktor couldn’t help but mull over them. Now, Viktor sat bored in English. He had very little clue why he had chosen this language to learn but he supposed it was the most useful one being taught and he had spotted many American tourists in the city. He was snapped out of his American daydreaming as he faced a kind smile from his English teacher and a book that had the words ‘Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone’ on it’s cover. He looked around and quickly noticed that the bell must have rung, with a confused look he faces his teacher once more, “Yes Mrs. Hèdervàry?” She was Hungarian.</p>
<p>“Try reading this Viktor. I know you're a bit ahead of the class and I wanted to give you something fun.”</p>
<p>Viktor had wanted to say no thank you but his curiosity beat him to thinking and before he knew it he was walking home with the first book of the Harry Potter series in his hands with his eyes hungrily reading the words as he was quickly enamored by the protagonist, Harry Potter. He seemed quite timid but was so very kind and seemed as enchanted by the magical world as Viktor. He could empathize with Harry, he supposed his Papa was mean like Uncle Dursley and he saw the favoritism towards his sisters but Viktor understood why. Viktor was supposed to be a man, he wasn’t a wuss and much less… much less a fairy. The thought felt vile in his head so he quickly let it go.</p>
<p>As he continued on the read the series he fell more and more for the dashing Harry Potter and even Draco held some charm. He made sure to keep it a secret though, he didn’t quite know why it felt like it should be hidden away and frowned at but he was sure it was for good reason. So in silence, he read. He never spoke a word of the stories and most definitely didn’t read them outside the comfort of his room in the dark nights of Moscow or English class where he was sure Mrs. Hèdevàry would keep him safe from the monster he seemed to fear. </p>
<p>
  <em>This was his first dirty secret that he hid in his wardrobe, all the books hidden in the very back with piles of clothes keeping them safe from prying eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>Viktor didn’t quite know when the ugly feeling had come to him. It was icky and made him feel sick to his stomach afterward but it was there and enraging at the moment. It started when his best friend, Mikhail, got a girlfriend. He felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy with little idea as to why he felt such a blood boiling jealousy. When he couldn’t find an answer as to why he felt that way he assumed he was jealous of his friend and wished to be with the girl. Even if the fact that he didn’t even know her name and found her nasally voice rather nerve grating didn’t add up to his conclusion quite well. </p>
<p>It was the fact that his friend had a girlfriend and he didn’t then. That must be why! Then why did he not mind hanging out with his friend? Was it not okay to hang out with someone if you were jealous of them? Was that why the other boys questioned him like the nosy mice they were? So many questions bounced around Viktor’s head that it made him dizzy. The jealousy monster in his belly reared its ugly head as he watched his friend give a peck on the cheek to the girl. He decided it would be best not to talk to them.</p>
<p>
  <em>When Viktor still couldn’t get the questions out of his head he decided to write them all down on a paper and hide it with his books. Another dirty secret for the monster in his closet he supposed.</em>
</p>
<p><br/>Viktor was 15 when he discovered the world of Netflix and Youtube. They were both wonderful platforms where he found many characters and people he adored and practically fell in love with. Youtube had his favorite theatre group ever known as Starkid with the man he could only describe as being the best actor on the planet, Robert Manion. Netflix had its own little treasure called Criminal Minds where Spencer Ried had quickly become his number one with his intelligence and quick wit. Around this time was also when Viktor began realizing his… differences to put it lightly. While most boys his age had a girl to snuggle and kiss or were courting a girl, he could never imagine himself in such a situation. Not with a girl at least. He could easily fantasize about Harry, Spencer, and Robert even a few boys at his school but whenever he tried to think of a girl in that same relationship… it always ended up feeling wrong. So the possibility stayed as fantasy.</p>
<p>So he quickly realized it wasn’t the girls that were wrong. It was him who was wrong. He was terrified when he realized, surely there was some way to change it. Some cure. It was a disease after all. The church said so. Would… would God not love him anymore? Was he truly going to be alone now? Would he be rejected and cast into the fiery pits of Hell just as his priest and Papa said?</p>
<p>
  <em>When Viktor saw no way out other than rejection he chose the only idea that came to mind. He stuffed that monstrous himself deep into the wardrobe of secrets and made sure to keep a tight lock as it may get out.</em>
</p>
<p>Viktor stared lovingly at his husband and daughter. He couldn’t help the smile that was on his face. He reflected back on his years as a young boy, a teenager even. He couldn’t remember how he had lived so long feeling so miserable. In a place where he could not be accepted for how he was born, who he was. He remembered the exact day he had left. It was June 25, 2013, he was 19 and he had bought tickets for him, his mother, and his sisters to fly over to the states. From then life had been a busy blur. He no longer had to think of his papa, or his peers, the church. None of it. He had stayed with those who loved and gone to a place where he was accepted and cherished for being him. He remembered meeting his husband in a coffee shop. The man was far too shy to ask him out until what must have been his 100th visit. From then it has been a comfortable fast-moving relationship. He now had a daughter and a loving husband. A house with a nice picket fence and two sisters with a mother who accepted him with hugs and kisses. </p>
<p>His monster had left the closet and happily married to the man of his dreams and raised a daughter who he picked flowers with on Saturdays.</p>
<p>
  <em>This was the good life. A life of picking flowers with family.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know if these words were right. If they were wrong. This story was rushed and rewritten time over and over again. I never really liked it and it ended up rushed. I wish I could give more but my time is temporary and I wish to move on from a story I struggle to find the right words for. Maybe I'll revisit it, who knows?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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